Sunday, 3 November 2019


                                                                                          Claret Bottles

Dear Reader,

It is said that 'loneliness can be every bit as debilitating as a physical ailment; as bad, it is estimated, as smoking fifteen cigarettes a day'.  Reading this piece today immediately makes me remember what it was like to be lonely after the death of my husband.  Terrible, is the word that springs to mind.   I just couldn't get to grips with the situation at all.  Get a dog or a cat was the advice I got from kindly friends, but can a dog or a cat discuss the politics of the day or help me decided if I need a coat to wear that day?  No they can't.  

Of course there are lots of things I could have done to possibly made myself less lonely and I did sometimes play bridge or ask a friend in for tea or coffee.  But what about all those many many hours by yourself?   I went for a daily walk, wrote a poem or thought about the start of one, cooked a bit for myself, but thinking about the rest of my life on my own filled me with dread and sadness.  What would be the point, just filling in the time until perhaps, mercifully, one died.  What about your children and grandchildren, people might think?  Well I love them to bits but they are all very busy.  They do visit sometimes at the weekends but in the week, they do not. 

My darling granddaughter Emma had just got a boyfriend on Tinder.  Why don't you try for one, she said,  I will help you.  And that is how I found Francis on The Telegraph Dating website. And now life is so joyful and such fun. We walk and talk together, cook new things, put on 60s music and dance after supper in the sitting room, watch WWII DVDs  and are genuinely grateful to the Good Lord that we found one another. 

So my friends if you are lonely try computer dating.  It has made the complete difference to my life
finding a loving companion in Francis.



Grief bridles you
holds the reins
is an unwanted guest in your head
releases uncontrollable torrents of tears

is ever present
your albatross

you glimpse a slipper
under a chair
study the wedding photographs
count the claret bottles
no longer wanted
and you weep


With best wishes, Patricia

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